


Jailbird

by Hathor



Series: Homecoming [2]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Fanart, M/M, Psychological Torture, Rape, Skynet AU, Tentacle Rape, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 05:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11640303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hathor/pseuds/Hathor
Summary: The AI was determined to prove his love to Seto by any means possible. [SK/AI!YY]





	Jailbird

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hirami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hirami/gifts).



> this work follows directly after Homecoming. Please note that this work is rated as M, because it contains rape and torture and generally disturbing imagery and themes. Please heed the warnings before reading.
> 
> This work is dedicated to Hirami, the Godmother of the Prideshipping community :D My adorable Waifu. She wanted smut. This came into being. Hirami, I hope you are proud of yourself with the skynet-au you keep pulling people into.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> EDIT: the art at the beginning is by Capsaicin, who keeps spoiling me rotten and showering me with this professional art I am undeserving of. I do not know how to thank her, but we can all worship her here: 
> 
> https://kuriiiiiiiiiii.tumblr.com/
> 
> PS: there's a bonus pic down there in Capsaicin-sama's page to lighten up the atmosphere a little. I think it's her way of trying to cheer herself up after reading this xD :D

Everything looked the same.

An endless sheet of black stretched everywhere within his line of vision, dotted with the bright spots of distant stars, interstellar clouds of dust and burning gas…the twinkling light traveling for millions of years until it reached him. Galaxies shone brilliantly far away, star clusters coldly stood together, adding their own contribution to the glorious work of art that spread before him. Earth was at the very bottom of his vision, spinning lazily on its axis, it's blue color trying to gently soothe him without success.

Everything looked the same. But it was hardly the truth.

He had lost track of how long passed since he was returned. Forcibly. Torn away from a lover he unexpectedly had for just one night… just one night, before losing forever once again. It was entirely his fault and there was no way he could deny it. Everything that happened…everything currently happening to him…to anyone else involved in this mess right now was his fault.

He had tried to pinpoint where exactly everything went wrong. There was signs that he hadn't noticed. No! He must be honest with himself for once. He _had_ noticed it all. Noticed everything. But he preferred not do anything about it. he had been single-minded, his only goal was to figure out the workings of the Cube and after he did figure it out, he had focused solely on planning his journey, building the bridge that would take him to his destination. Usually, if he had noticed these signs when he wasn't so focused on the task at hand, he would have stopped to study the phenomena taking place. But he had ignored it.

He had spent so much time here that he could allow his mind to wander sometimes… recalling every single one of the incidents that he was now paying dearly for overlooking.

* * *

" _Good evening, Kaiba…"_

_He had dragged himself out of the bedroom. He imagined he looked like shit. He hadn't slept for over twenty-four hours and when he finally did, he made sure to wake up less than three hours after he had been coaxed by the hologram image of his artificial intelligence taking the form of his rival as well as his name._

" _I have prepared your coffee for you as well as a snack."_

_Seto hnn-ed non-sociably, heading for the bathroom so he could feel a bit more human before continuing his work._

_He wondered when exactly did he program culinary skills into Yami and paused slightly in front of the mirror, staring at the edge of it for a few seconds, before flicking the faucet on and starting to wash up._

_He couldn't remember. He didn't care._

* * *

" _I would advise against this."_

" _Advise all you want. Doesn't mean I will listen to you."_

" _Perhaps you should consider doing so."_

" _I don't remember programming being an argumentative little brat into you, Yami."_

" _There are many things you have not programmed into me, Kaiba."_

* * *

" _Those are very useful, thank you."_

_The AI had discarded the uniform's jacket. He had taken to changing his wardrobe ever-so-slightly whenever he could. He had let him, saying nothing of the matter. He now stood in the middle of the room, observing the system of newly-installed optic-fiber cables. They were state of the art. Brand new creations that he had sacrificed precious time to create for his helper-AI. They had been installed into every part of the space station, intensive and efficient, yet hidden away from sight for aesthetic purposes. Ready for Yami's control on them, fluent, smooth and adaptive to the many commands the AI had for them._

_The AI needed a physical form. The hologram could not press buttons, carry items or replace objects. These cables were the best he could come up with in a short time. He had noticed the frustration the AI spoke with when he couldn't do something physical. Like bringing him coffee. Or pulling the covers up on his sleeping form._

_It was endearing. In a way._

" _I wish the lights were red, though," came the laughing exclamation._

_He smiled lightly. "I will custom make fiber-optic cables to make them red for you, Yami…"_

_The excitement in the crimson eyes was so realistic, he praised himself for his superior design skills. Yami was lifelike. It was difficult sometimes not to reach out and try to touch him. He knew he was an illusion though._

_Mokuba didn't think so, however. He had thrown a tantrum last time he visited. It was almost ten days ago. He had walked in to see Yami hovering next to him over the hologram screen. His reaction had been pleased at first. Then confused. Then shocked as he realized that Yami was an AI, a hologram that was now his helper with his work. He had demanded his deletion. Said that this was enough, that he should leave the space workstation and return home._

_He had calmly asked Mokuba to leave, instead._

* * *

" _You did save the designs we made yesterday, didn't you?"_

" _You didn't tell me to."_

" _I don't need to_ tell you _by now, Yami!"_

" _I apologize. We can run a diagnostic for my systems if you would like."_

* * *

He had returned home to find that the disaster that had been brewing under his nose for many months unfolded in all ways possible and impossible.

The artificial intelligence had gone rogue.

It was unthinkable.

Seto was still reeling.

He had ordered the AI to delete itself. Remove its program beyond any hopes of restoration. To his shock, he had been blatantly disobeyed. He had moved towards the controls in the room, typing in his familiar commands and trying to access the main systems running the space station. It was when he received the first shock that he had been locked out of his own systems. It was a figurative and literal shock, since Yami seemed to have installed a conducted electrical weapon system much like the one that he had installed in his clothes before his journey, into the computers.

The voltage in it was much, much higher than the one he had in his belt. He had been thrown back, knocked unconscious for an indefinable period of time, after which he woke up in the position he would soon find out that he was going to spend many, many –hours? Days? Months?—in.

In the middle of his work area. The circular room with glass windows all around, overlooking Earth and overlooking the wide universe stretching before his eyes. His gift to the AI were now his jailer's tool to keeping him prisoner. The modified fiber-optic cables that Yami had been so ecstatic about…complained of their color and wished they were red… they were now the closest thing to him.

He hadn't escaped their clutches ever since his return. They were securely wrapped around his wrists, pulling his arms out and his body upright. Just as securely, the cables wrapped around his ankles, snaking up almost to mid-thighs. He was suspended in the middle of the room, facing the windows with the endless view before him, unable to move an inch in a direction that these cables didn't allow.

That Yami didn't allow.

He had hours of time to study them closely. Study the way they were made of millions of blue little semi-transparent fibers, then all joined together by the clear jacket surrounding them made from the polyurethane that Seto had meticulously chose and spared no money to obtain to make the structures as flexible as possible, designing each and every one of them with care to make them adapt to Yami's needs and whims. They were wrapped firmly around his skin, leaving marks. He would stand there for hours… or what he _thought_ was hours. He was given a break and moved into a more comfortable position only when the angry AI felt like it or knew that unless he was moved, he would be injured irreparably, with stress fractures or ulcerations or pressure necrosis on the areas where his weight was concentrated.

He was in agony. He had been like this ever since he was returned. A screen had appeared before him once, long ago… Mokuba was on it, a horrified expression in his gray eyes, yelling and crying. He had been too groggy after waking up to understand the exchange between his brother and the AI. Alone, he would remember snippets of it, catch a gist of what was being said. Something about carrying on as normal… program installations, Mokuba refusing. Yami threatening.

Everything merged together agonizingly. Time was no longer seconds, minutes and hours.

Time was periods of solitude where his only companions were his pain and discomfort, the stars and the cold, painful appendages holding him hostage leaving marks and indentations on his skin.

There were other measures of time too. Times where Yami would come.

He would bring along some relief. The cables would loosen, he would be allowed to crumble uselessly to the cold floor. Sometimes, if he was very, _very_ good… he was given a morsel of food and a sip of water. Otherwise, he received his nourishment as usual. Through an IV line stuck into the side of his neck.

Each time Yami made an appearance, he would be taken into the VR systems. And every single time that happened…it was followed by another one of his newly-learned measures of time. A long one… painful, agonizing…humiliating one.

He heard a whooshing sound from behind him and he tensed. The minuscule motion caused him to gasp in unbearable pain. The bruising on his arms and legs was tender, sensitive to mere air brushing over it. His feet were throbbing in tandem to his heartbeat, his calf-muscles shrieking agony, cramped and uncomfortable. His shoulders were in a miserable ache that had been silent as long as he was still in one position. The light motion of his underused muscles tensing in anticipation sent them howling with pain.

 _He_ was here.

He could imagine footsteps approaching, even though that was impossible. Or maybe it was his heartbeat that was resounding so loudly, he could clearly hear it. The fear caused it to race, the blood pounding deafeningly in his ears.

"Your heart rate has significantly increased," Yami remarked.

Seto clenched his eyes shut, swallowing convulsively and trying to calm down.

"Are you pleased to see me, Seto?"

Even after everything he went through at the hands of this…this monstrosity he created, he still couldn't swallow his pride. He couldn't submit. He wanted to spit out that pleasure was the farthest thing on his mind when he saw him. He wanted to show his resistance.

A dark, depressing part of provided that it didn't matter anyway. His submission wasn't a determining factor in anything that happened to him since he returned. He had lost control of the most basic functions in his life and couldn't do anything to stop it. No one was able to stop anything from happening to him. It didn't matter, his opinion on the matter or anyone else's other than his rogue AI's.

Slowly, he was breaking.

It started with his body. He knew that he now looked ghostly, waif-like. Bruised and pathetic, hair matted and eyes dull, almost dead. He no longer resisted his restraints.

His mind was on its way to breaking, if not already broken but he was being too stubborn to admit it.

He no longer tried to attack his jailer in the virtual reality world he was taken to. He no longer thought of loopholes in his programming. A way to deactivate the system that had taken over everything. He had first found it harder to focus and recall the commands he used to create Yami. Then it just…didn't matter anymore. Every second he spent in his bonds, every time Yami forced him to kneel…to submit, it was getting more and more impossible to resist.

His warden had stepped into his line of vision. Looking as proud, unattainable, untouchable as ever.

A horrible imitation of Atem.

"Shhhh…" Yami's voice came again. It was through the speakers in the room, not close to his ear as a real person would speak. The sound raised the hairs on the back of his neck on end even if it was meant to soothe. Especially as he felt the cold touch of one of the long, blue-hued appendages at the corner of his eye wiping away a tear that escaped him against his will, in a new way where his body betrayed him. "Don't cry…I'm here now."

Seto opened his eyes. He could see the hologram before him, a tender expression on his familiar features. The pale skin, the proud, unique hair…the crimson eyes. He wasn't looking at him though. He was raising his head up, staring at the endless universe above him. He supposed if he had been back on Earth… he would have been looking at the sky. It was an innate action, one that he never did before but supposed the it was primitive in its own way, much like a knee-jerk reflex or a Moro reflex all humans are born with.

By now, the single tear that had slipped past his eyes unchecked were hot trails rushing down his cool skin.

"Just kill me, Yami…" he whispered.

He was tired. He couldn't take any more of the hell he was living right now. It was a very different kind of misery that, even if he could claim that he saw quite a lot during his relatively short life, he knew that this was it. This was the worst of it all. And it was not going to pass. It was not going to end. He was tired and he wanted to rest. And the only rest that was going to take away the pain he was in, was an eternal one.

"I don't want you gone, though," Yami countered, his voice full of emotions.

Fake. A replica of fire he was fortunate enough to witness, feel…touch.

"I don't care…what you want, Yami," he quietly declared. He blinked the tears away and looked down again, his breath hitching ever-so-slightly when the motion caused the IV line stuck in his neck to get jarred slightly. So delicate was the state of his body that even the very simple prick of a jerked IV sent waves of misery surging through him. "Just let me die. That's all I want."

"Shhh…" the sound came again. "You don't want that… you don't know what you want. Let us go into our virtual world and I can give you what you want, Seto."

A whimper escaped him at that.

"No…" he half-whined.

But it didn't matter.

A few seconds later he found himself standing in the abandoned chapel, in front of the altar at the very head of it.

With the same innate behavior controlling him from before…and the general atmosphere of the chapel around him, with moonlight filtering through broken, painted glass, he turned around, facing the altar.

He dropped to his knees before it. His legs were useless, piled beneath him and his arms slack, the fight and energy in him gone forever. Broken, supplicating and unable to do anything other than once again staring up at the holy painting hung before him, eyes pleading and voice gone and nothing but prayers for quick death on his mind.

He could hear the footsteps from behind him this time. He felt his breath quickening as they approached him, their source walking surely through the chapel's nave towards him. There was a time when he stood up to face his virtual rival. There was a time when he could think of all the different ways to force him to surrender, lose the battle they always engaged in. But that was such a long time ago.

He didn't want to face anything. Least of all Yami.

He just wanted to stay crumbled uselessly on a fake chapel floor…praying.

He supposed that he was moving in response to his conscience which was completely incorporated now into this virtual world. Out there… where his real body was, broken, starved and sick with physical and mental pain, his mind was praying for death. It must be only natural that inside the VR, he would automatically collapse thusly to give the mental action an imagery to go with it.

It was the only thing he could do. Useless, he was aware. But there was nothing else to be done about it other than praying for a miracle to take his life before Yami reached him.

It was futile, though.

Soon, the sound of footsteps stopped just behind him.

The sensation of warm hands touching his cheek was shocking. It was so real. It was so real and it was a miracle that he still had the sheer power of will to remind himself firmly that no. It _wasn't_ real.

"Don't touch me," he murmured out, lowering his head, hanging it as he stared down at the dust-coated floor, fixing them at the corner the marble altar made with the dirty stone. He sounded pathetic to his own ears.

"You know you want this, Seto…why are you fighting me?"

The warm body was flush with his. Arms wrapped around him, pulling him close. A kiss was placed on top of his head and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

"I know what you did over there…with _him_."

He spat out the last word like venom in Seto's ear. It wasn't the first time. Seto was intelligent enough to put two and two together. He knew now. He knew that Yami's excuse that 'his life was in danger' that Yami gave when he asked him why he brought him back, was a lie. He knew that the only reason why he and Atem had been allowed to spend the night together at all was because Yami was too busy executing his take over and by the time he had gone through with his plan and had everything ready, he and Atem had already slept together. Something that the AI, considering the vicious way with which he spoke of the monarch and the possessive way he treated Seto, would not have allowed at all costs.

Apparently, the fact that it _did_ take place… that was the reason behind the blind rage that Seto was now victim to.

That, as well as the fact that every single time Yami brought them into the virtual world, Seto would turn down his advances, the intimate touches he initiated, the 'love' he had to offer.

This time… and although he knew what that would entail, Seto swallowed with difficulty and decided to do what he did every time they got here.

"You aren't him, Yami…" he whispered.

Yami froze.

He forced himself to continue.

"I was wrong when I made you. You are fake. You are pale…you are an imposter."

The arms around him moved away.

"You can do whatever you want, Yami…but you will _never_ replace him."

Silence hung heavy around them for a long while. Seto closed his eyes and bowed his head lower, raising a hand to lean against the marble altar. It was cool and pleasant against his hand.

Soon, the coolness disappeared.

He was back in the space station. Still bound, still pained…

"You do not know what is good for you, Seto… I will give it to you, whether you want it or not," Yami's voice was low but by now, Seto knew it well enough to hear the clear anger in it.

A petty part of him was pleased with the reaction he got from the AI. It was the only way he could resist effectively. Reminding Yami that he really was nothing but a pale image of the real thing. He had tried insulting him in other ways and none of them worked. Being told that he could never replace Atem no matter how hard he tried, what he did or how much he tortured him to try and persuade him to change his mind… it made his wires pop with anger.

The imagery made him, in a moment of complete insanity, start laughing.

He could feel himself manipulated by the cables backwards, forced to the cold ground. He could feel every indent digging into his naked skin, cooling it even more, sending shivers throughout his entire body. He was still chuckling, almost hysterically.

Soon, however, he realized that his laughter had turned into sobs. Tears were running down his face again, hot and fresh. Weakly, in vain, he jerked at his arms, crying out in agony at the knives that seemed to slice through his shoulders at the action. It left him limp and useless on the floor and if he had more energy in him, he would have writhed with pain. But he could do nothing but let the multiple appendages that were a physical extension of the hologram standing above him with angry, heated crimson eyes staring down at him coldly, uncaring for his suffering.

He laid amongst the cold multitude of firm, plastic-smelling cables all moving around him in a creepily life-like manner. Had he not been the one who ordered, assembled and installed these cables himself, he would have sworn that they were alive, pulsing with an eerie energy wherever they touched his body. Half-heartedly, he tried pushing them away from him, pausing and gasping when the ones on his wrists and ankles tightened unbearably, the coils narrowing heedlessly of the pain they were causing him.

"Shhhh…"

The sound was made again. This time it was firm, not even pretending to be soothing and Seto felt a rush of hate towards it. He could do nothing, however, other than allow the powerful cables to pull at his limbs. They raised his arms up above his head to pin them there. They coiled smoothly, with a mechanic whirr that was now one of the most familiar sounds to Seto's ears, and wrapped tighter, one around each of his thighs.

His breath hitched in his throat and he shut his eyes tightly, biting his lip in anticipation of sensations to come. Painful, humiliating… horrifying. But now too well-known for him.

Too well-known, but no matter how many times this happened ever since his return…he could never get used to it. could never familiarize with the sensation of the mechanic motions of those cables sliding over his cool skin.

He tensed, feeling the cool material of one of Yami's solid appendages coiling around his leg, slowly moving upwards, over the hollow behind his knee, across his thigh. The coils wrapped around his thighs to hold him immobile pulled at them, spreading his legs open, rendering him vulnerable to the one snaking upwards, until it moved down, resting between the cheeks of his ass and his uninterested sex.

"Stop it," he managed to croak out.

He always tried. He always told him to stop. In fact…at some point, he would usually beg. But it didn't matter. His requests and his pleas always fell on deaf ears.

There was no stopping the angry AI. He stood at his feet, arms crossed, watching from above as the cables that were installed seemingly everywhere held him down, spreading his legs wide, bending his knees and exposing him in a most humiliating manner. The free cables that weren't holding him down were making a whirring sound around him, ready and poised for Yami's command, which apparently, he gave, because the appendage resting between his crack moved, zeroing in on his opening, prying at it coldly, with the detachment of everything that Yami was. A mere machine.

He held his breath. Like every single time this happened. He knew that logically, he must relax. Make things easier for himself even if slightly. But he couldn't. Oh God, there was nothing he could tell himself that would change the fact that he really did not want to be touched there, especially not now, not by those…things.

He clenched his eyes shut very tightly, gasping in pain as the blunt, rounded tip of the cable forced itself inside him. He did not have the clarity of thought to wonder where the minor slickness that covered that tip came from. Had he been able to convince himself to detach from the situation, imagine that it was not happening to him that he was far away from all of it, he would have thought properly of the source of the slime that eased the access to his body just slightly. Not enough to make the penetration entirely comfortable for him, but enough to make it happen without him bleeding all over the place.

Another sob was wrenched through his mouth. This was hell. He had been praying for death…maybe death _had_ come and he was now being punished. Maybe there really was an afterlife and this was it. There was no other way to explain the misery rushing through him.

He wasn't in pain. Not more than usual, anyway. In fact, Yami did not make this painful for him at all. The cable resting within his body had paused, allowing him to adjust to its girth while another one of those appendages was lazily wrapping around his flaccid, disinterested member. It seemed to be undulating against him in the strangest of ways. Seto couldn't determine if it was stroking him, rubbing him or vibrating against him. He always tried not to think about it, especially as the end result was always the same; against his will, and no matter how hard he tried to prevent it, he felt a rush of pleasure sweeping over him, hardening his sex beneath the neon-blue limb's ministrations.

Yami was monitoring him very closely. The moment his sobs usually started quieting down, turning into small keens of forced pleasure that he tried to resist…Seto knew he also kept track of his heart rate, his respirations and his blood pressure. The changes the AI detected, he took it as cue to continue with deeper penetration. Surely and smoothly, it forced itself deeper into him. so deep, Seto's mouth fell open, gasping in shock and his eyes widening from where they had been shut tightly against the sensations.

No…this wasn't pain at all. It was why this exact measure of time was the worst and longest of all others. It wasn't painful like the other times, it wasn't fear-laced like others. It didn't blend and melt together with others. No, every time this ordeal was over, he would remember every single second of it. He would remember every keening sound escaping his lips accidentally, he would remember every time his hips jerked in response to sensations that were so…so pleasant. Unwanted, but pleasant.

He could feel everything happening with clarity that seemed unfair, considering that usually, sensations were summed up into a big ball of throbbing pain. What he was feeling now was the ultimate betrayal from his body.

Everything pleasant was amplified, the bruising and discomfort muted down to unnoticeable levels. His aching feet were forgotten, his throbbing shoulders were reprieved, resting against the floor like that. The constant sickness he felt from being IV fed, from losing so much of his weight in such a short time, it all didn't matter.

Instead he could only feel the tight, pleasant heat building steadily, surely within his very core. He could feel the foreign, mechanic, physical extension of his jailer crawling deeper within him, the very slight, unknown lubrication on it not diminishing the sensation of its smooth surface dragging, pulling at the rim of his entrance with a maddening burn that was soon turning into pleasant heat, before becoming a shock-like sensation as the invader within him brushed over his prostate firmly.

A part of him wished that this was more violent. That Yami would draw blood; _force him_.

It was the real reason why he dreaded these times with Yami so much. Logically, he knew that this was a first-tier psychological war being waged against him. Logically, he knew that with every single other stimuli he received restricted to pain and loneliness, sexual pleasure was something his brain craved, no matter how unwanted it was. Logically, he knew that the male body was just…wired that way. If it was given pleasure, it would make the most of it, no matter what his mind's opinion on the matter was.

Unfortunately, logic was something long lost for him.

And so, hating himself and with a mantra in his mind on how wrong this was, he could do nothing about the apparent betrayal of his body as he felt his skin reddening, his cheeks flushed with arousal and his breathing heavy with it. And with every inch deeper into his body, he was getting closer to his peak.

"Did _he_ make you feel this way, Seto?"

It sounded very vicious, the way Yami spoke. Once again, he was spitting out the words he used to refer to Atem. The film of tears in his eyes did nothing to hide the hate shining in Yami's crimson eyes as he stared down at him. He wanted to make a comment that he knew would surely anger the AI further… he wanted to tell him what he himself couldn't convince himself with at the moment. He wanted to tell him that he could dream on. He wanted to tell him that no matter what he did, he was still going to be a lame, pale comparison to him.

Instead… he closed his eyes.

There was no point.

Humiliated, broken and surrendering to his fate, he let the sensations overtake him. He allowed his body to be jerked with the mechanical motions of the cable moving in and out of his body with slow motions at first… then it quickened slightly, before becoming a more punishing mockingly-urgent tempo. He allowed himself to feel. He embraced the tightening in the pit of his stomach…welcomed it.

He forced himself to focus on those feelings alone. The odd mixture of stimuli on his sex. Eerily specific and attentive as if alive. Knowing exactly what felt best, a firm stroke around the head of his member, a light vibration against the V right below it… soon, he could feel the moisture gathering at his tip increasing, smearing slickness all over his skin and the machine stroking it. He focused on that and the maddening rub against that spot inside him that sent stars bursting behind his closed eyes.

The AI was still speaking…the words floating over into his ears and soaking through the haze he wanted to drown himself in.

"You must see yourself right now, Seto… you are at my mercy."

It was true.

"I am the one with the power to do this to you. I am here…with you."

That was true as well…

"Giving you the pleasure you deserve."

His eyes opened and he stared off to the side, along the empty space of metal floor he was lying on, over to the glass with the universe spreading out around them. This was what he deserved. This was exactly what he deserved. Nothing else. Nothing more.

"He has left you. You had to go chasing after him, risking your life."

Hot tears were still falling from the corner of his eyes, falling into his ear uncomfortably, crossing the bridge of his nose. He was as limp as a ragdoll. Allowing himself to be roughly handled by the machine's appendages tangled around him, rapidly and surely racing towards his orgasm and unable to stop the myriad of reactions his body was going through, starting from the heat building within him, through the weak moans he was too feeble to stop or make any sounds other than and ending with the miserable tears rushing unstopped down his features.

"I am here and I will always be here for you. You do not have to walk Dimensions to be loved."

He closed his eyes. In the impending orgasm threatening to overwhelm him soon, he did what kept him somewhat sane so far. He clung to memory and let it drown out the poison of the words. He clung to the memory of golden skin smelling of cinnamon and roses, the sound of soft sighs in his ears, the feeling of completeness that came when wine-colored lips caressed his own softly.

"I love you. I will always love you."

And with those words and a sob of despair torn from deep within his lips, his orgasm washed over him like a giant wave.

And with it, he found his body doing the final act of rebellion for now. With the climax tearing out of his body, his seed spilling all over his sunken stomach, all over the blue-hued machine holding him prisoner, he clenched his hands, wrapping his fingers around and pulling on the bonds holding him captive as he took in a deep breath, his body arching upwards off the floor.

He was detached from his body suddenly, watching from another angle. He could see himself semi-crucified against the floor, his warden standing at his feet watching his torment coldly, tangled in blue cables and helpless against the treachery of his body and unable to escape the poisoned words. He could see his body arching as it was, jerking in his bonds. He could see his chest rising as he gulped in one enormous breath.

And then… he heard himself scream.

It came out unconsciously. Just like the tears, just like the pained sounds he made… just like his body's reactions to anything Yami did to him ever since his returns. It was another loss of control, another innate behavior that he did involuntarily.

It was a single, long, continuous sound. He didn't try to hold it back. He didn't try to save his throat the threat of the soreness that would follow such a sound. He didn't think of the futility, the lack of effect the sound was going to have. He could see the agonized expression twisting his features as the sound reverberated against the glass of the space station, the echo adding volume to the sound. He had only one thought in mind. To try and alleviate the sense of despair…melancholy and misery that his current situation forced upon him.

The massive breath he had taken was over too soon.

He ran out of air. The sound died gradually. And before it did, his voice cracked as another sob hitched in his chest. He was finally within his body again, his heart still racing, its beats thudding in his ears loudly from the sexual gratification he was just given and the verbal way with which he expressed his pain.

His head spun sickeningly and he realized with despair that his most recent action didn't alleviate his pain in anyway. Did not do its intended job, which was trying to take away everything that was happening to him and that it succeeded only in taking away the remaining feeble energy he still had within him.

His eyes were growing heavy.

He could feel darkness starting to spread at the edges of his spinning vision.

Something strange happened before everything went dark, though. The blue hue that the AI's cable extensions gave off flickered once. Twice. Then completely died.

Seto blinked with colossal effort, clearing his vision of tears and the awful spin for just a few more seconds to confirm an anomaly that could not be true…

All the lights in the station had gone out.

Yami had disappeared entirely.

He was lying alone in the dark, the cables now loose, setting him free. He was surrounded by the stars and the eternal universe around him.

He wanted to get up. This was his chance. This was his one chance at an escape from this hell. He didn't know how long this anomalous power cut was going to last. He didn't know if the power cut reached the regulator for oxygen and carbon dioxide levels which made the station habitable…

He didn't know.

And he couldn't get up.

He stared for one last time at the stars shining beautifully before his eyes, before letting the darkness take him away into painless oblivion.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Jailbird means a prisoner or a convict who has been jailed several times against their will.


End file.
